The Cinco de Mayo Murder (7 page)

I rummaged through the file. “No money,” I said. “But I think there was a wallet in his pant pocket. A hat, just as I thought. One unopened bottle of water.”

“He could have drunk another bottle and discarded it.”

“Right. Half a sandwich, two ice packs to keep food cold, both thawed. A hand towel, a case for eyeglasses. His glasses were near the body. A small transistor radio. He probably wanted to hear the news or some music. Look at this. A postcard to his parents. Had no stamp on it. He was going to mail it when he got some stamps. That doesn't sound like he was planning to kill himself. Kleenex, hand wipes. That's about it.” I sat looking at the list.

“Do you see what's missing?”

I went down the list a second time. “Nothing pops out.”

“Clothes.”

“Of course,” I said. “He had no extra clothes with him. He had them in a suitcase or a larger backpack.”

“And he left it in the car he came in. I think this tells us that there was a car and driver.”

“Or that he had a room in a hotel somewhere—but that means the hotel would have called his parents’ number looking for him to pay the bill. Mrs. Gruner didn't say anything about that, but I can ask her. And if he was staying in a hotel, he needed transportation to get to the park.”

“What this says to me is that it's unlikely he committed suicide,” Joseph said. “He had to have traveled with clothes. If the clothes were left in a hotel, why didn't they turn up?”

I returned to the file. There was no mention of anyone looking for a hotel room. “I'm going to call Deputy Gonzales,” I said. “I'll be right back.”

I found a pay phone and dialed the number. Gonzales answered immediately.

“Warren, this is Chris Bennett.”

“Well, hello there. You and the sister still thinking about that death in the park?”

“We are, and we have some questions. Do you know if Heinz Gruner was registered at a hotel at the time of his death or the night before?”

“Well, we did some digging on that, called a bunch of places, came up with nothing.”

“Sister Joseph and I just realized that he had no clothes with him except for what he was wearing. We read the list of the contents of the backpack and all it had was a sandwich and some Kleenex and things like that.”

“Young folks don't always travel with a suitcase, you know,” the deputy said. “They rough it.”

“He didn't have a toothbrush. He didn't have a change of socks or underwear.”

“You're right about that. But we never recovered any.”

“There's something else.” I had made a split-second decision to tell him what we had learned that morning. “We spoke to that couple who found the body, the Towers. They were on their way down the mountain when they spotted the body and the backpack.”

“OK.”

“They had gone up the same way earlier in the day. I'm not surprised they didn't see the body because of the angle, but they didn't see the backpack on the way up.”

There was silence from the deputy. Then he said, “They were coming down when they saw the body and on the way up they missed the backpack?”

“Yes.”

“Interesting.”

“They couldn't have missed it if it was there, Warren.

The trail is narrow. Even if they were looking away, they would have kicked it as they went by. We think the backpack was taken after the accident and brought back just before the Towers came down the mountain.”

“I suppose that could have happened,” Warren said. “Someone could've seen it, thought it had money, taken it away with him to check, and brought it back when he'd taken what he wanted out of it. Could've been a piece of jewelry in there that the fellow didn't want to wear in the heat, like a ring.”

“That's what we were thinking,” I said, not wanting to get involved in a discussion of possible homicide.

“Well, that's interesting. It's so long ago, I don't remember whether I asked those folks if they were going up or down, and if it's not in the file, they didn't volunteer it. But I agree with you that because of the curve of the trail, you'd see the body coming down easier than going up.”

“I just wanted you to know what we found out.”

“My recollection is the father flew down and identified the body, and we gave him the backpack and whatever we had. There was a wallet in his pocket, as I remember.”

“I saw that, yes. Well, thanks for your time.” I went back to the table and told Joseph what I had learned.

“So no suitcase, no clothes, no big backpack. I'm sure the parents were too distraught to think about such mundane things.”

“And as far as the police were concerned, young people just roughed it and didn't bother changing their clothes. Or using a toothbrush,” I added.

“I think we've learned something valuable,” Joseph said. “Whether the companion took the backpack or a third party did, I'm convinced there was another container of possessions that he left somewhere rather than carry it
as he climbed. And the place was very likely the car he came in.”

“OK,” I said. The check had been dropped on the table in my absence. “We've accomplished something. Let's go look at that mission.”

Everyone knew of the San Xavier Mission, which was on a reservation not far south of our hotel. The drive was barely twenty minutes. I took the wheel and Joseph kept her eyes peeled for the first sight of it, which turned out to be quite dramatic.

“Look,” she said, leaning forward. “Over to the right, that magnificent white structure rising out of the desert.”

I could hear the excitement in her voice. I glanced to my right and saw it, a white dome atop a long, low white building. A moment later we passed a sign that we were entering the reservation, and soon I came to the exit. We drove through farmland, finally approaching the mission, which stood just beyond a wide-open space with parking along the left side. We got out of the car and began to walk through the dusty open area. Off to our right, well beyond the building, was a small hill with a large cross planted on the top. Several people were climbing toward it.

We entered the church and went into the dark interior. Old wooden pews, smoothed by age and use, flanked a center aisle in the narrow sanctuary. Candles burned ahead of us in the nave. The atmosphere was hushed. In the left transept was a statue of San Xavier, reclining under a coverlet adorned with tokens representing desired miracles.

These tiny arms and legs and hearts had been pinned in place by visitors.

We made a slow round of the church, then left to visit the museum in a wing off to the right. There we found historical pictures and artifacts going back hundreds of years. The building had been started by Father Eusebio Kino in 1700, but most of it had been constructed by Franciscans and completed almost a hundred years later. Exiting behind the building, we walked through a beautiful courtyard with flowering plants and tropical trees.

“What a wonderful place,” Joseph said, “and built by Franciscans. If I saw nothing else on this trip, I would consider it successful to have come here.”

On the way back, we stopped and bought candles that we tookinside to light. Whenever I have the opportunity, I light three, one for each of my parents and one for Aunt Meg.

Outside in the hot sun, we decided to take a hike up to the cross.

“I think we'll both be a few pounds lighter when we get back,” Joseph said.

“And more muscular. I feel every step in my legs.”

We took it slowly, spending close to an hour on the hill. Many of the people around us spoke Spanish. Others looked as though they might be Indians from nearby reservations.

Back at ground level, we sauntered toward the car, the late-afternoon sun beating down on us. A priest walked by and stopped to talk to Joseph. I left them and continued toward the car, which was as hot as an oven. I opened the windows and turned on the air conditioner till it was cool enough to close up. Joseph was striding toward the car. She got in, thanking me for cooling it off.

I drove back to the hotel, Joseph turning to look at the mission for the last time.

*    *    *

We ate at a well-known Mexican restaurant a few blocks from the hotel. It was pleasant enough that we could eat outside in the garden. In the desert, I learned, the nights were cool most of the year, affording relief after the hot days. The food was different from any I had ever eaten. Unsweetened chocolate was used as a flavor with the meat, and skeptical as I was when I placed my order, it was delicious. I knew Jack would love it.

“This was certainly a successful day,” Joseph said. “We learned some important things connected to your investigation and I satisfied a desire I have had for more than twenty years. We couldn't ask for much more.”

“But I have much more to find out. Now that I suspect there was another person present when Heinz fell, I know I have to continue digging into this. I've been wondering whether Heinz traveled to Arizona alone. He might have come with someone from school.”

“His airline ticket was missing. It may have been in the missing suitcase.”

“Or among the things that were stolen out of the backpack.”

“Good thought,” Joseph said. “Twenty years ago you didn't need picture ID to travel. Any man could have posed as Heinz Gruner and gotten a free flight back to wherever he came from. I think you have many questions to ask his mother, Chris.”

I agreed. “I hope she doesn't find it too stressful.”

“She'll overcome it. This has been the agony of her life. She wants answers, most of all to the question of whether her son committed suicide. While it seemed a likely possibility a few days ago, it doesn't anymore.”

“It's hard to imagine anyone would have wanted to kill him,” I said. “He wasn't a bully, he kept to himself, he was pleasant enough even if he wasn't outgoing. I know so little about him, it's hard to know where to begin.”

“You know little about any of the victims whose deaths you have investigated. They come to you out of the blue with no history, no known friends or business associates. You learn all that when you look into their deaths. You're ahead of the game here. You remember this person and you've met his mother. That puts you two giant steps ahead of most of your other inquiries.”

I had begun writing notes to myself as she spoke, things I wanted to ask Mrs. Gruner, other things I wanted to find out from Heinz's college. They might have a record of the people in his dormitory, especially those whose rooms were near his. It made sense that he would live near friends he had made in previous years.

“I'm going to have to contact his college,” I said. “I'm sure Mrs. Gruner will remember where he went. The college has to know what happened to Heinz. A catastrophe like that doesn't happen often.”

“That's a good start. When you start putting out feelers, more things will pop up. Old acquaintances will surface. Not that I'm telling you something you don't already know.”

We had managed to talk all through dinner. Now we sipped our coffee, hearing voices and laughter from nearby tables. It was so peaceful here, it almost seemed wrong to be talking about a possible murder.

We drove to the Desert Museum after breakfast on Friday morning. It opened early, and we were both early birds. The trip itself was worth the drive. The road wound through mountains covered with saguaros and other cactus plants that were beginning to look as familiar to me as oaks and maples and sycamores in the East.

We received maps of the paths through the museum grounds as we entered. We knew there was too much to
cover in one morning, so we elected to go to our left toward the hummingbird aviary, and after that, to the large aviary. In between we saw the plants and trees of the Sonoran Desert, mesquite and palo verde trees that were green from the ground up to the top, like those Deputy Gonzales had pointed out on the mountain. There were numerous varieties of chollas and agaves, beautiful golden barrels, and cactus plants that looked like works of art—the way they crept here and there, coiled around themselves, and occasionally bloomed.

“I am done in,” Joseph said as we neared the main building after wending our way along a mile of paths. “I think the other half of this wonderful place will have to wait for another visit.”

“If I can persuade Jack to come, you'll have to join us. I think he would just eat up everything we've seen and want more.”

We went inside and looked around the gift shop, enjoying the air-conditioning. I bought a small jar of Sonoran honey and a T-shirt for Eddie. By the time I finished this trip, his summer wardrobe would be complete. Joseph picked up some honey, too, a larger jar to share with the nuns who breakfasted with her. Then we hiked to our car and drove back to the city.

“I must say I like being a tourist,” Joseph said as we sat under the trees in the courtyard of Old Town, sipping lemonade and eating southwestern salads. “I've become quite adept at it in very few days. Do you think we'll have time to visit the convent?”

I looked at my watch. “Of course we have time. We can visit the museum and then drive out there.”

Joseph opened a map of Tucson and located the convent
she'd heard about. “It's quite far east. It may take us half an hour or more to get there.”